I woke up this morning, determined that I would do better today. That I would smile more. Laugh more. Be actively engaged with my kids. Touch my husband. Eat mindfully.
Yes. Be better. In all the ways. Be better. Be different. Be more.
I climbed out of bed, threw on some clothes, and with a smile invited my daughter to go on a walk. First thing. Let's not get stuck in the muck with breakfast. Put us in a situation where I won't panic when she speaks loudly ("Quieter voice! Your dad and brother are sleeping! Shhhh!"). Just go. Be outside.
The walk went well. I tried to not cringe when she ran up and down the driveway, gravel crunching loudly beneath the open bedroom windows. I smiled at the doll stroller she asked to push along (the white baby doll I had as a third grader, the Black baby doll she asked for two Christmases ago... both strapped in snug as can be). Gave her choices between my coat or her dad's coat since hers was missing. Laughed with her as she admired her sleeping cap, still on her head, sticking straight up because she had a huge puff underneath it. Noticed how she had tucked her pajama pants into her snow boots in order to "stay cozy."
No Easter basket today. She voiced her disappointment over that. I listened, not altogether certain as to what my response should be. Wanting to remind her why she wasn't getting a basket. Offer some kind of proof because she seemed to have misplaced the information regarding why she wasn't getting the Easter basket... that it wasn't just because her dad and I are meanies. Ended up telling her that she would still get candy in the plastic eggs we were going to hide around the yard. Tried to bring back some joy by reminding her that we would dye the white eggs. Frustrated with my guilt and sadness that indeed, my little girl was waking up on Easter morning without an Easter basket. She has no idea, but I had finally given in to her constant requests for lip gloss and had bought a three pack (pink, pink, and pink) to be hidden underneath the blue and green paper "grass."
This morning was no exception. Internally feeling regret that we don't know how to do this. How to parent kids who have diagnoses such as Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder, general anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Reactive Attachment Disorder, also with some valid concerns surrounding food; anger that we don't know how to parent kids who aren't the same race we are and thereby naturally experience life in a way that my husband and I can't directly relate to.
Just give her the basket. Just smile more. Laugh more. Engage more. Hug more. Eat mindfully. Meditate. Read. Hike. Write. Teach. Have sex with my husband. Ride my bike. Accept my body shape. Buy a swimsuit and get in the river this summer. Become a fucking Buddhist.
Just do all the things.
Because waking up and deciding I will do better means I will, right?
It doesn't. Intention doesn't do it. I know that... not just because I've read about it or been told about it- I know because I've been down this path so many times. Waking up, determined that today would be different. Then discovering, in almost a panic, that I don't have the tools. The knowledge. The experience (here's me, looking back at my decisions, knowing that everything turns out okay because I did the right thing).
Right now I just want to do better. I don't know how.
I will smile more. I will engage more. I will laugh more. I will be more.
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